


Stranger Things Have Happened

by Beautiful_Infinity



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gestaltcest, M/M, Multi, OCs - Freeform, Sticky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Infinity/pseuds/Beautiful_Infinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Omega Supreme. The only Cybertronian that isn't a gestalt and is just THAT HUGE! But... what if there was something more to it? OCcentric, but not overly so. Omega needed more love. Eventual sticky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life is Odd

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Any body got a shot gun! These plotbunnies are KILLING ME DX Well, this is a slightly more OC centric type of stroy, but not to fear! Plenty of canon, and smexing but nothing like OCs falling in love with canon. Not a big fan of that really.
> 
> At any rate, the plotbunny decided that Omega Supreme needed some more love. So I am here to fulfill that XD
> 
> Enjoy, and a big shout out to Darkeyes17! She helped me with these OCs so they would be well designed and not... mary sueish, Gary stuish... whatever you wanna call it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I wanna own it... but I don't. That makes me sad TT^TT

Life, Ratchet had decided, was odd. It didn't make sense and was strange at the best of times, and it was maddening in a 'rip out your own CPU' kind of way at the worst. It most certainly didn't leave much up for your own decision.

Such as this entire fragging war. Granted, he was very aware that when the Autobot Council of old had denied most rights to what was now the Decepticons far before the war had even started was asking for trouble. He wasn't naïve enough to ignore that the war had indeed only started out with good intentions. Luckily, humans had a saying for a situation such as this.

'The pathway to hell is paved with good intentions.' Frighteningly apt in his opinion. This entire war could have ended when the Autobot Council had fallen and Orion Pax had been named Optimus Prime.

The fact was, for whatever reason only known to the Decepticon Tyrant, it hadn't. And over the vorns, Megatron had become obsessed with the destruction of all Autobots. Or maybe 'power hungry' was a better suited phrase?

Either way, the war had continued. And along with that continuation, Ratchet found his medical bay filled to the brim with idiots who possessed half-clocked processors. At least, until they had recently woken up after their four million vorns in stasis here on Earth. While it wasn't every cycle anymore, Ratchet still wished for a break now and then.

The only upside was that they found themselves unengaged from time to time, big battles few and far between. And it was rare that they needed all the Autobots stationed on Earth to beat back the Decepticons. Ratchet had simply concluded that Megatron was getting lazy and sloppy.

Which was why he was currently cursing himself, life and every Decepticon and Autobot as he worked to stabilize the biggest Transformer of them all.

While it was rare that fights rarely were big anymore, it was even rarer when they needed Omega Supreme's help with anything other than interspaced travel off planet. Except that Megatron had been particularly clever (Jazz had said something about the Slag Maker actually taking a suggestion of Starscream's this time) and his new weapon which he had been calling the 'Dark-e-tron' (as if his names couldn't get any lamer) had caused quite a bit of damage.

Wheeljack had correctly deduced that the Dark-whatever could convert the smallest particles of dark matter and make tightly controlled explosions. Wherever. He. Wanted. Them. Ratchet felt that Megatron was on a personal mission to make his life the living pit amongst his own faction.

If Omega Supreme hadn't jumped in and chucked the thing through the atmosphere (where it thankfully imploded on itself) Ratchet was sure that this war would have ended right here. But he hadn't been able to guard against the lethal shot from Devastator while he had played hero. Now there was a hole in his chassis that came out the other side, by Primus' will alone, having missed the spark chamber. That didn't really decrease the urgency of things, however.

And yet, because of Omega Supreme's lack of involvement in their fights, Ratchet was unfamiliar with the insides of the giant Transformer's frame. There ahd been the one time when the Aerialbots had come online when Megatron had nailed him point blank with his fusion cannon, but even then it had really only caused minor damage compared to this.

Well, had been. The battle had been several cycles ago, and after stabilizing the big guy enough to have most of the uninjured or minorly injured move him to the hangar connected to the Autobot HQ, he'd had some rest and then went about fixing Omega. Which was a task about as big as the big lugnut.

"How is he doing, Ratchet?" The medic turned to see his leader standing in the doorway.

"I'm nearly done here, Prime." Ratchet said wearily. "I'm replacing plating now, and I'll run internal diagnostics when he's up again. For now, self repairs need to be allowed to work and then I'll run through his systems manually. I don't work on him a lot, so I want to be sure I did it right."

"That is good to hear." Optimus said coming to stand beside Ratchet. "We owe him much this time."

"We do."

"That should do it." Wheeljack said cheerfully, connecting the last line in Omega Supreme's motherboard. "Can't say I'm not confused though… a lot of redundant systems in here…"

"Well, he's big." Grapple muttered as if that explained everything.

'Thank you, Captain Obvious.' Ratchet thought, from where he was perched on Omega's chest, checking his scans for any anomalies they may have missed. He started when the large mech suddenly shifted, nearly throwing him off. "Whoa! Hey! Hold the slag still…"

A muted grunt was his answer, Omega's optics flickering back on. "Omega Supreme: Is not offline?" The large booming voice even sounded muted. Which was understandable, his body had been put through a strain.

"No, and good morning to you too." Wheeljack chirped from where he was by Omega's helm. The giant turned said appendage to look at the inventor.

"Query: What happened?"

"Took a shot from Devestator." Ratchet supplied, still going over the scans. "Left a pretty big hole."

"Yeah, but you totally saved our afts." Hoist smiled as he walked into the hangar with an energon transfer unit. "Thanks, big guy."

"Thanks are not necessary." Omega replied. "The Omega Supreme: Was just doing its duty."

"Well thanks anyway."

Ratchet closed up the small panel that his scanner ahd been hooked into before sliding down the massive chassis to land on the ground. Once he was a good distance away, Omega shifted until he was sitting, stilling to seemingly get used to his systems once more. A lot had needed replacing and it had taken a chunk out of their supplies to do so. Ratchet brought up the scans on a portable console he had set up for this reason. There were too many scans to go through for him to have just relied on the scanner itself.

"Hoist, Grapple, thank you for your hard work. Go get rest, Wheeljack and I will finish here." The CMO instructed, gesturing for the inventor to join him at the console.

Both architects left quite happily, although Grapple was sure to get quite a few more grumbles of 'under appreciation' and 'not enough respect' out of his vocalizer before Hoist dragged him from the hangar bay. It was quiet after that, aside from Ratchet and Wheeljack's muttered musings about codes and what not. Omega Supreme was, by nature, a quiet Cybertronian. He never spoke if he was not spoken to first, unless he had something important to say. Many of the other Autobots allotted to this as him being slow. And Omega supreme had never had reason to correct. They were allowed to believe what they wished. That was a part of freedom, was it not? The ability to believe as one chose?

Omega Supreme sat in his silence, his mind on the battle which (according to his chronometer) had now been nearly 10 cycles ago.

The battle was a big one, needing almost the entirety of the Ark's crew aside from a skeleton crew for here on the Ark. Omega Supreme had been asked to come along to balance out the Gestalts, should they have need to face all three at once. It was recognized that the space ship was slow in his root mode, he was still extremely strong.

The fight had been turning against the Autobots. Megatron was wielding a new weapon that was devastating. They were actually lucky that while the machine had a lot of power there was no aim. Even so, nobot could get close to the Deccepticon Tyrant.

And then, even though he had been grappling with Devastator, Omega Supreme saw the Warlord turn the machine the Prime's way.

It had happened all at once. He threw Devastator to the side, and waded through the combatants, trying to reach the machine with a single minded purpose to destroy it. He saw it light up, the charge building… he wasn't going to make it…

'NO!' Five voices in his mind cried out all at once, fueling him on.

He reached out, the voices encouraging him. His servo was closing on the machine, ripping it from its mount to the roar of fury from Megatron and then he was using his massive strength to launch it as afar into the atmosphere as possible.

He never knew if it ever made it, pain exploding through his chassis, the five voices screaming in agony, on louder than the rest…

"…ega. Omega!"

The space craft pulled himself out of his memory without a visible jolt, although he felt amusement tickle in his processor. He looked down at the medic and engineer, curious.

Seeing that he ahd the big mech's attention, Ratchet motioned for him to lay back. "I'm going to need to put you into stasis one more time. Your systems are reintegrating well, but I still would feel better if I do the manual check."

"Omega Supreme: Acknowledges." Omega rumbled, careful to not crush anything as he lay back down.

He could feel the medical stasis taking hold, and slowly, one by one, the voices fell quiet once more before he lost consciousness.

"Now this is strange." Ratchet grunted, pushing his hand around the crevice he had found under the giant Cybertronian's abdominal wiring.

"What is?" Wheeljack asked, closing up the last panel on the side he had been inspecting.

"There's a cog out of place here."

"Really? And that's not painful to him?"

"I'll have to ask him when he wakes up…" Ratchet muttered, attempting to wrap his digits around the edge of the misplaced cog. "It seems to be a transformation cog… For now I'll put it back… There!"

Ratchet had pulled the cog free of whatever gears it had wedged itself between and was just closing the panel when the sound of transformation sequence sounded.

"Wha-?" Ratchet couldn't even get the rest of his word past his lipplates when he was suddenly falling… only to land in a pile of mechs that were now occupying the space that had once been Omega Supreme. All were unconscious.

There was absolute silence in the hangar, both Wheeljack and Ratchet staring. At length, Wheeljack spoke, even as the mechs curled around each other in recharge. "Well… I guess now we know why he had all those redundant systems…"


	2. Meet the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, the muse for HIWTHI has fled me this week and last. Chapter 8, although I KNOW what I want to happen, is making it difficult. Or, rather, the D-cons just won't let me writer their scenes DX BAD D-CONS!
> 
> So, muse decided to come over here and take the forms of my Omega Gestalt. Which means you all get chapter two sooner than intended! Enjoy! These guys are a BLAST to write... and as soon as I get a scanner, you guys will have a link and pics of them XD
> 
> Enjoy~!
> 
> Disclaimer: If only, if only... But I don't own the cannons or TF. Only the Ocs.

Something was touching his left elbow joint. At least, it felt like it. Which wasn't necessarily odd as it was out of place. He shouldn't be able to feel that. Or should he? He searched his memory cache, starting with the last thing he could remember. The battle. That's right. There had been a battle. A big one, if he was remembering correctly. Omega Supreme had called upon them when it looked like he would not have been able to stop that machine. They had encouraged him, offered their support, sent whatever power they could to him… And they had done it. Right?

Yes. Yes, they had. He remembered Omega chucking the awful thing into the atmosphere. His brother, the one that had made up Omega Supreme's left arm, had complained briefly about the heat… And then pain. Oh, yes, now he definitely remembered that. Omega had been hit. He had been hit.

The touch to his elbow joint came again. A prick really. He felt his hand twitch. His… hand. Okay, now he was wierded out. Maybe they had died. That was a likely explanation. Because there was no way he should be able to feel his own hand. HE and his brothers had been stuck as Omega Supreme for so long now. He couldn't really remember being able to move on his own…

Okay… He really wished that whoever was messing with his arm would knock it off. It was probably Sidevex… Agh! He knew that tickled!

"M'chargin, 'Vex… G'way!"

There was an amused snort. "No, you're waking up. You've been in recharge quite long enough…"

He frowned at the voice. It was familiar, but not one of his brothers.

"Yeah, 'Flash! C'mon! Rise n' shine bossbot!"

Ah, that was one of his brothers. And it was easy to tell that it was Maverick, just by the chipper tone in which the sentence had been delivered in.

… Primus frag it! Again with the elbow!

It was at this point that Powerflash's optics snapped on in surprise and realization. He had heard Maverick's voice… out loud and not in his processor! And he was staring at the orange ceiling of the Ark… for the first time ever. It was a… odd experience. He was suddenly startled when two helms popped into his line of sight. He jerked and the yelped in discomfort when whatever was still burying into his elbow joint pinched two wires together. A loud curse and then clang and one of the helms pulled away with a shout of pain. The other flinched, but stayed where he was.

"Ow! What'd I do!" Maverick again.

"I would prefer that you not startle my patients when I'm attempting to work on delicate circuitry, you cross-wired glitch!" Again, the familiar voice. One he now recognized as Ratchet's.

'Oh… That's where I am… the medbay.'

He had heard the rumors through Omega's awareness. That Ratchet was terrifying and violent, but did his damndest to fix you when you broke. What an odd thing to think of now…

"'Flash? Are you okay? I mean, I know it's been a long time since we've separated and we've taken a lot of damage as Omega, but seriously! You didn't get CPU damage did you?" Yeah, that was Sidevex hovering over him. The constant string of words was hard to miss. And now that his optics were clearing out some, he could make out the golden visor that covered the racer's optics and the smug grin. Frag, he had missed those.

The grin on the sleek face widened, having caught the wayward thought through the bond.

"Missed seeing ya, too, 'Flashy!" A knock against his helm. "C'mon, boss. Ya gotta get up! Ratch here says yah've been rechargin' too long. 'Sides, Mal 'n Rev need some luvin, cause Primus knows Mal's missed ya and Rev's already fed up wit' Mav."

"When I said wake up, I did not mean sit. I need him flat to finish with his elbow." Powerflash turned his helm to watch the medic with some interest. He had memories of the Chief Medical Officer, but they were all from Omega's large point of view. Seeing the white and red frame up close like this was surreal, to say the least. Speaking of memories…

"You seem to be… taking this in stride." The gestalt leader said calmly, trying very hard to suppress the urge to giggle. His elbow joint was very sensitive and it tickled quite a bit, whatever Ratchet was doing in there.

Someone snickered nearby and then Ratchet was once again leaving his elbow alone, much to his relief, and grabbing a wrench. The same instant it was in his hand, it was gone again and somebody was shouting in alarm. Powerflash turned his helm and noticed the engineer, Wheeljack, had taken a dive for the safety of a table although considering the dent in his helm; he hadn't quite made it in time.

:: I don't get it…:: He broadcast over the bond and received waves of amusement in return along with an explanation from Revolution. Who was actually sitting to his right in all his winged glory, his sulking brother Maverick beside him. The pale blue optics had never left his gestalt and even under the amusement, they could all feel the relief that they were all okay.

:: Apparently, Ratchet had a cursing fit over discovering that they've had a gestalt in their midst all along. Something about it would have been helpful to know about it before they had built the Aerialbots and Protectobots. Oh… He also had this entire rant about having five new idiots to fix after 'Vex woke up, freaked and pretty much ran himself at full speed into the doors. ::

Powerflash felt his lips twitch. He suppressed the urge to outright laugh when he glance above his head and caught Sidevex's pout. He could call it a frown all he wanted, but the truth was the truth. Ratchet was now closing up the plating in his arm.

"Alright, you can sit up now."

Powerflash did so gratefully, reveling once more in the realization that he could sit. Wow. It really had been a long time.

Ratchet ran a few more scans while he was up before declaring they were all fine and were to sit here in the private room of the medbay while he retrieved Prime. Which was good. Powerflash had the impression that if they'd been ordered to Prime's office, things would have been very awkward. This was the first time they had actually seen the interior of the Ark afterall. As soon as the door shut behind both Medical and Engineer officers, Powerflash found himself engulfed in the middle of a pile of bodies.

"Oof!" He cried breathlessly, doing his best to wrap his arms around who he could reach from underneath it all.

"Can ya believe this!" Sidevex cried joyfully, his slight accent thickening with his excitement. "We're ahr own mechs again! No 'fense to the big guy, but I missed givin' ya guys real hugs."

The light, teasing voice of Maverick answered him. "Never pegged you for the touchy feely type, 'Vex. You know, since you're always running from everything." His wings twitched in that way that they all knew meant he was teasing.

"Oh shush you!" That was Revolution's cultured voice, his won wings flicking to rap against his brother's. He and Maverick had been members of the upper class in Vos before they had volunteered for the Omega Project so many years ago. The accent's had never quite left them. "Enjoy the moment. Can't tackle 'Flash like this when he's in 'working mode.'"

The quietest of their group and also the youngest answered in his careful drawl. "Well, I'm just happy to be able to see all you guys again. Hearing you was nice b-but I-I-I w-w-was a-afraid that w-we'd –"

"Calm, Mal." Powerflash hummed, running a soothing servo down the mech's back. Poor Maelstrom had been cursed with a speech impediment when he ahd taken a nasty fall as a youngling at a construction sight. It ahd crushed his vocalizer and the only one the medics had been able to replace it with at the time was a glitched one. It really wasn't all that bad and really, Maelstrom could speak just fine when he wasn't worked up and remembered to take it slow.

"I know…" The mech replied after a few moments of reigning in his emotions. There was a quiet pause. "I've missed you guys so much."

Powerflash chuckled and Maverick tilted his head so he could nuzzle the facemask that covered Maelstom's lower face. There were several moments of pleasant silence in which they basked in each other's physical fields, each thoughtful about how long it had actually been… Funny. They didn't feel as old as they should be. Then again, technically only Omega had aged and gained wisdom. The latter ahd been passed to them by default, but apparently their own separate frames were untouched by time. They still felt as young as they day they had combined to save Crystal City so many years ago.

It was inevitable, however, that Maverick would get bored with the silence. "Hey, hey! You think that any of the others know about us yet?"

"Why?" Sidevex answered, snuggling more firmly inbetween Powerflash and Revolution.

"No reason…" That voice that said there was indeed a reason, but he wasn't going to tell them easily.

"Mav…" Powerflash said in warning. Primus they had just split for the first time in centuries… no… in millennia and already Maverick was thinking of ways to get into trouble.

There was a snort. "Don't worry about it so much, 'Flash. Seriously. Just thinking about some creative payback."

"Payback." Powerflash intoned flatly, noticing the ways each of his brothers' varying shades of blue optics and one golden visor flashed in interest.

"Yeah. 'Gainst all those fraggers who called Big O stupid. He's not stupid. Just one track minded…"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Which is why I'm all the more determined." A mischievous grin spread over Maverick's charcoal faceplates.

Before Powerflash could form a retort they all heard the door beep, signaling that it was a bout to open. In a flurry of movement, they had all pushed away from each other. Gestalt or not, these moments were private and they really rather preferred not looking so unprofessional in front of the Autobot CO. By the time the door had cycled open completely, all five Omega Gestalt Components were either sitting or standing.

And for the first time ever, they were meeting the Prime faceplates to faceplates.

The mech was surprisingly large from this angle, actually towering over Maelstrom who had been closest to the door. The mech took several steps back, startled by the size difference. None of his brothers could blame him. It was going to take some time to get used to not thinking in terms of Omega's point of view. There was a long stretch of stunned silence in which the gestalt and their leader stared at each other.

Eventually, Prime spoke. "Hello. I am Optimus Prime. Who, may I ask, is your Gestalt Leader?"

A slow smile curved across Powerflash's face and he stood despite sharp glare from Ratchet. "That would be me, sir." He smiled wider when Optimus' clear cobalts met his own gaze. "Optimus Prime, my designation is Powerflash…" He held himself high and proud. "And I would like you to meet my family."


	3. Why You Don't Judge a Book By Its Cover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3! YAY! I really love these guys! Some descriptions for you since I still don't have access to a scanner to post their sketches on DA. =3= But I'll let you know as soon as I do^^
> 
> Disclaimer: ... Do you think Hasbro will let me borrow them?
> 
> Enjoy~

Optimus Prime had encountered many strange things in his lifecycle. And he had certainly been surprised by quite a few of them. However, he had never been so openly stunned and unprepared as he was now. He had expected yesterday to have been mostly normal. Post battle thanks to Omega Supreme for saving all of their lives, as well as dragging Sideswipe into a hefty apology for quite a few comments that were unnecessary. What he had not planned for was a very excited Chief Mechanical Engineer to come bursting into his office and practically haul him with un-thought of strength into the medbay private room, where Ratchet was working on five mechs he didn't recognize. He had been quite surprised to find that Jazz and Prowl were already there, one looking absolutely thrilled, the other as neutral as he always was.

"What is going on?" Prime remembered asking that.

"Prime, meet Omega Supreme!" Jazz had cackled joyfully.

Prowl had helpfully clarified in light of his leader's air of confusion and to keep the Prime from staring at his mate as if the saboteur had lost what was left of his CPU. "He means Omega Supreme's Gestalt Mechs."

As if that hadn't been surprising enough, almost all occupants nearly jumped when one of the unknown mechs sat up with a groan, the wings… yes, those were wings… on his back flexing as if stiff.

There had been a lot of coaxing and explaining for the startled flier before he had hesitantly laid himself back down and allowed Ratchet to check him over. Optimus had politely refrained from asking any questions, seeing as the jet seemed overwhelmed enough what with the way he was staring blankly at the ceiling and seemingly unaware of most of their presences. That strained peace had lasted all of five breems before another of the mechs (a grounder) had startled everyone in the room when he had rolled off his berth with a yell, bolted to his feet… and had shown the five mechs who were obviously not his gestalt that he had once been a racer by launching himself full speed right into the unopened door.

The impact had knocked him unconscious again and there was silence broken by a few snickers from the conscious flier. And then Ratchet launched himself into the biggest rant Optimus and his other officers had ever seen since before they had left Cybertron.

"Dear fragging Primus on a pogo stick! As if having two sets of glitched-afted younglings weren't enough! Now I have to deal with five more grown ones! Son of a fragging glitch! Why! WHY! I swear, if I get one word out of any of you about how you're treated in MY medbay, you remember what it is I have to put up with! Pit-scrapped, triple defunct, slagging ASSMONKEYS! I swear -"

Optimus had tuned out the CMO by this point and had instructed Wheeljack to tell Ratchet after he calmed down to retrieve him when all five mechs were up. And with one last glance at the flier, who was staring fearfully at his wing where the still ranting Ratchet was working on burnt out circuitry and one more at the visored mech on the floor, the CO of the Autobot army left to deal with the building processor ache in the back of his helm.

Ratchet's rant could be heard behind him as he walked down the hall.

Now he sat in his office, having escorted the five gestalt members along with Prowl and Jazz there after introductions. And it was not lost on him how odd it felt to be introduced to mechs who had been Autobots longer than he had been Prime, but almost painfully obvious still young mechs. Ratchet had explained that while Omega Supreme was as old as he was, being stuck so long without the freedom to live on their own had placed Powerflash and his team in a type of suspended animation. Omega had grown, but his component pieces had not. At least, not by much.

Each mech now stood at attention in front of Optimus Prime's desk, their varying degree of nerves speaking volumes of their personalities.

Optimus' gaze flicked over the one claiming to be the gestalt's leader. Nobody had corrected him, so it was probably true. Designation, Powerflash. His chassis was the deep red-maroon of Omega's torso, accented by the silver of his upper arms and thighs. His faceplates were light silver, his helm black with side vents that were most likely put in place to protect the mech's audios. His forearms were pale yellow along with his shoulder armor, his shin armor a well balanced mix of the darker silver with the maroon-red. He stood rigid, but attentive, his almost indigo blue optics shining with wisdom that spoke of his memories inherited through Omega Supreme. A good soldier, one who followed orders, but was also confident enough to make his own. Someone who had needed to learn how to be a leader and was not born one.

Optimus' gaze turned to Powerflash's immediate right, following the small fidget of the mech standing beside him. Powerflash had introduced him as Sidevex, a former racer. This mech was mostly silver and grey with pale yellow accents, his own upper arms and thighs white. His chassis was where most of the silver was located, his actual chesplates the same pale yellow as his leader's shoulder armor. His shins were a dark grey with the yellow accents along the sides and the side vents on his legs were black. His helm was white with some of the maroon-red located on the stream lined shape. The mech wore a visor that was a golden color, but unlike Jazz's, one could vaguely see the outline of his optics which were absolutely expressive to his moods. Such as now, he stood with a vibrating tenseness that mirrored the impatience in his optics. A mech who wanted to run and have fun, but was respectful enough to at least try to hold still when asked. From what Optimus had gathered of the mech's speech, he had an accent that actually spoke of where he had come from before the war. Which was quite fortunate because when he became overly excited, he tended to talk at such a rate it was almost impossible to understand him and Optimus had been completely lost when the mech had attempted to tell him this information earlier.

His gaze followed to Sidevex's right, alighting on one of the two fliers. He held himself regally, yellow forearms crossed over his dark grey chassis, pectoral chest vents pale yellow as well his pelvic plates. The streamlined waist was white, following into the silver of his thighs and down to the returning dark grey of his shins. His silver upper arms led into the red of his shoulder armor which in turn led into the pale silver and red lined wings where a proud Autobot symbol was displayed. His rounded helm was black and it outlined exotically sculpted pale yellow faceplates with ice blue optics that matched the color of the unobstructed cockpit his arms were crossed over. The mech screamed of a noble upbringing. And Optimus found himself hoping he wouldn't be stuck with another Mirage, Tracks, or Sunstreaker… He wasn't sure the he could handle it. Wasn't even sure if the Ark could handle it. His designation was Revolution.

And Revolution's actual brother… Optimus found his attention drawn to Powerflash's far left, where the second flier, Designation: Maverick, stood neither at attention nor in a slouch. Optimus would go so far as to say that he looked… relaxed. He was smaller than his brother, though not by much and they certainly were the tallest of the group. His colors were almost the opposite of his brother, aside from a few changes. His helm was not black but a striking yellow, surprisingly not the pale of the others and blocky rather that rounded. His wings were black with the pale yellow lining. His chassis was just as elegant as his fellow flier's but his forearms were orange along with a stripe down his chassis. That split around his dark blue glass cockpit. His optics matched. The lazy smile on his face had Optimus slightly on edge. It reminded him vaguely of…

…

Forget having a second Sunstreaker. The Ark couldn't survive a second Sideswipe!

With an internal sigh, he turned his attention to Maverick's right, bringing to focus the last member of the odd gestalt. The poor mech seemed to shrink in on himself under the semi's gaze, doing his best to stand at attention, but most obviously wanting to duck behind the much taller flier beside him. Maelstrom, if Optimus remembered correctly, was mostly the pale yellow, his thighs and upper arms a silvery-grey while his forearms were black with dark grey and yellow accents. His shin armor was black as well, with yellow accents there. One antenna protruded from his angled helm, not unlike Optimus' own, and a silvery battle mask was situated just underneath his powder blue optics. The way he seemed to straighten further when Optimus looked him in the optics suggested this was a mech who had very little confidence in himself. Or he was socially awkward. Either one. The mech relaxed as Optimus turned to address Powerflash.

"I understand that you had no control over your transformation from Omega into your separate identities?" He queried.

Powerflash hesitated only slightly before he spoke. "Ratchet told us there was a transformation cog that had become misaligned. All we really knew was that one moment we could switch back and forth, and the next we're stuck."

"'Vex totally panicked." Maverick snickered quietly.

"Ahdidnot!" Was the instant reply.

"Quiet!" both mechs fell immediately silent after the barked order from their leader. ::Not the place guys.::

He received apologies over the bond.

Optimus was a little surprised. Neither Silverbolt nor Hot Spot could get the gestalt mates to listen so quickly and without any argument. It looked like there was more to this team than he had originally thought. The other Gestalts may be able to learn something from this group.

And suddenly he was feeling much better about the entire situation.

"It wasn't a pleasant revelation." Powerflash continued.

"What I would like to know," Prowl cut in, "Is why Omega Supreme never felt the need to tell us of your situation."

"Omega's loyal." Powerflash said immediately, his voice brooking no argument, his arms coming to cross in front of him.

"I did not say he wasn't." Prowl assured. They all knew the sacrifices Omega had gone through for the Autobots and nobot here would question his loyalty. It was also not missed that they referred to Omega Supreme as a separate being, much as the Aerial and Protectobots did with their own gestalt forms. "And you?"

"As loyal as any other." Revolution said stiffly as if he were insulted that they would dare question their loyalty.

A brief flick of doorwings had the jet's brow ridges up, before his own wings flicked back and he looked away. The other flier just looked amused. Optimus decided he didn't want to know.

"Still, allegiances aside, it would perhaps help us to know why Omega Supreme said nothing of his predicament." He intoned, steering the conversation back on track.

Powerflash cleared his intakes. "Well, as it stands, the war wasn't even in full swing when we were stuck as Big O – sorry – Omega Supreme. It happened shortly after Crystal City fell." There was a flash of sorrow in his optics and his voice wavered on the last word, but he quickly reigned in his emotion. "We had combined to protect the city, and we already know that Omega told you the circumstances of it." Optimus Prime nodded. He did recall having the conversation with Omega about the Constructicons and Devestator and the fall of Crystal City. "Well, Omega Supreme was hurt pretty badly and we just knew that instead of gaining our individual frames as we were prone to do upon unconsciousness, we awoke still in the form of Omega."

"That long?" There was surprise in Prime's voice. A nod from Powerflash confirmed what he had said. Primus, that had been millennia ago!

"I guess, we became so used to being 'one' rather than 'all' that Omega saw no reason to bring it up."

"We were of the opinion that we would never be separate again… sir." The quiet voice had come from Maelstrom, the mech moving slightly closer to his gestalt leader when he saw he had gained the Prime's attention.

Optimus considered it and he felt… not pity, exactly, but an overwhelming sadness that these mechs had missed out on so much of their lives because of something that was fundamentally so simple to rectify. Regardless, they now knew the truth and these mechs were no less welcomed than they had been as Omega Supreme. The Prime nodded and stood, making his way around his desk to stand in front of the group who were surprisingly smaller than himself. Although, looking on the other Gestalts, he supposed it shouldn't have been such a shock. He felt himself smile under his mask, as he stretched out his hand to Powerflash.

The Gestalt leader looked at it in confusion for a moment before memories of Omega's surfaced and he recognized the human custom of shaking hands. He reached out his own pale yellow servo and allowed the Prime to clasp it in his mighty blue one.

"I would say welcome but I believe Welcome Back suits the situation far more aptly." He said with good humor, earning a grin from the smaller mech.

"It is good to be back, Sir."


	4. Damn, That Aft!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I promised myself this would come out last week and look... I'm a week late. *headdesk* That so figures. However, I DO have a good excuse. Family troubles have a way of wearing down on you and making you want to rip out your own hair. Especially when you're trying to get your bi-polar mother to get along with your bi-polar sister. Luckily, we got them to sit down to talk to them and let them know that what they are doing is affecting everything and everyone else and they agreed to go to therapy for their own relationship. Hopefully, things will be better from now on.
> 
> So yeah. That's what's been happening in my life right now.
> 
> But here it is, not as long as I wanted it to be,but it was fun to write and this seems to be turning into a series of Supremebots oneshots anyway... I shall try to rectify that by actually adding PLOT!
> 
> No promises though.
> 
> Disclaimer: The only thing I co-own with Darkeyes17 is the idea of this story and the Supremebots. All recognizable characters belong to Hasbro as well as Transformers.
> 
> Enjoy~

For all intent and purposes, the Command Staff Meeting had gone rather smoothly aside from all of the curious mechs who were chatting and spreading rumors in the common room. After all, a meeting requiring all of the command staff hadn't been seen since they had awoken on Earth, so most of the Ark's crew knew something big had happened.

Aside from that, nothing had gone horribly wrong.

Unless you counted Ironhide suddenly drawing his weapons on the poor gestalt when they filed in behind Prowl, Ratchet whacking the weapon's specialist over the helm for being stupid, Red Alert twitching and eyeing the new mechs suspiciously and Blaster and Maverick making with the flirty little finger waggles and teasing grins. Primus help them all, it was another Sideswipe!

All in all, a relatively normal day on the Ark.

"Very well, now that the command staff knows the situation and Jazz has agreed to update the crew regarding the circumstances, I would like to take them around the Ark." Prowl informed Optimus after the meeting room had cleared. "They need to be acquainted with the interior of the ship and we need to find them spare rooms. As it stands, it's looking like we will need to expand again. I would also like to fit them into the shift cycles, as well as patrols. Especially the fliers. Two extra sets of wings may give us the advantage in the coming future."

Optimus nodded, casting a glance at the closed door. He knew the five mechs were waiting on the other side. Most likely some of the officers were talking to them. It was a phenomenon that he was still getting used to himself. "Thank you Prowl. A tour of the Ark may help them feel more at ease."

The Autobot SIC and Head Tactician gave a small solute to his commander. "Then I will be off, Prime. The sooner this is done, the sooner I may get to work on our new space issue."

"Boooored!" Maverick groaned, flopping back on the medical berth of the private room they had fist awoken in the medbay.

"Yer always bored, Mav." Sidevex grinned, his baby blue optics only visible by outline through his golden visor. Even so…

"I don't care," The flier whined. "They should let me and Rev fly."

His brother's wings twitched in sympathy where he leaned against another berth, Maelstrom snuggled into his side.

"We don't have full clearance yet." Powerflash answered absently, reading through a datapad on rules, what was expected of the gestalts and his new position as a subcommander and possible advisor for the younger gestalts. There were about 100 sections… all written by Prowl… Hmmm… He may need to speak to the SIC about how gestalts actually worked. That would help a lot with the way the schedules were right now.

"Yer kiddin' aren't ya? We've been Omega fer so long, and now we're five separate mechs we need clearance?" The ex-racer's voice was full of incredulity.

"It would have been nice if they had at least showed us to the recreation room first." Revolution cut in, his smooth vocal baritone accentuated by the regal tone hidden in his speech pattern. His arm had moved to let the smaller mech snuggle closer and his optics glinted with a familiar slyness that Powerflash knew could be wielded just as well as his wing-blades.

"It would have been." Maelstrom agreed, content to let his and his gestalt-mate's EM fields mingle pleasantly. "We could have perhaps gotten a chance to meet some of the others."

Powerflash glanced at his team with a raised optic brow. "And even then, Maverick would still have found a way to be bored."

"That's not true! I call unjust accusations!" The smaller flier cried in his defense, sounding completely serious.

And Maverick being Maverick, he most likely was.

"Yeah, he woulda'." Sidevex snickered.

"Glitch face."

"Motherboard defunct."

"Yeah, well you're a deadbolt with a broken cylinder!"

"Ya callin' meh stupid?" Sidevex growled, golden visor flashing dangerously.

"Your grasp of the obvious astounds me, grounder."

The racer's sleek form stood from where he was perched on the counter, moving a quarter of the way to where his mate lay sprawled on the berth. "Do not make meh come over there."

Maverick eyed the space between them before his lips curled into a taunting grin. "Congratulations on making it halfway to the halfway point."

There was no more time to think, the speedster across the room in less than a klik and tackling the flier from the berth, with a war cry. With a startled squawk, Maverick and Sidevex tumbled over the edge of the berth to the floor, Maverick twisting at the last second to try to pin the flailing courier under him and save his wings. They hit the ground with an 'oof' before Sidevex planted his pedes on the ground and shoved upwards, scrabbling to flip them.

A playful growl and Maverick pressed down, making himself almost deadweight. "Careful there, 'Vex. Wouldn't want to think you're starting something I'm inclined to finish."

"Get off ya great oaf o'va flier!" The racer continued to squirm and push and flail until he had successfully twisted enough to hook a knee around larger mech's thigh. With all the speed in his frame, he rolled, pushing the surprised Maverick to the side where he crashed into a cart of assorted medical tools waiting to be cleaned.

The flier shook his head to clear it of the impact before launching himself at his smaller mate again, this time the two of them hitting Maverick's previously occupied berth and knocking that over too. Powerflash and Maelstrom stood to separate the two before any more damage could be caused with their playful wrestling, while Revolution stayed where he was, arms crossed across his cockpit and optics glinting in amusement.

"What the frag is going on in here!" The wrestling on the ground stilled, Powerflash freezing where he had been reaching for Sidevex's shoulders to pull him off and Maelstrom looked at the medico in alarm, hands gripping Maverick's arm.

Ratchet took in the askew berth, the spilled energon that had been sitting on it, the discarded datapad on the counter and his face darkened as his gaze alighted on the toppled table and all his medical tools littering the corner of the room. A sense of dread began to permeate the air.

"Out." Ratchet's voice was quiet, deadly and even if they personally didn't have experience dealing with the medic's famous temper, none of them were stupid enough to tempt him.

"What?" Well, none except for Maverick who had stood up at this time leaving Maelstrom to catch Sidevex before he hit the ground.

They all flinched when Ratchet stalked the rest of the way into the room, grabbed Maverick by a wing tip and proceeded to drag him by the sensitive appendage.

"I said out you insufferable flitter glitch!" He yelled, ignoring the pained whines from the large flier. The rest followed sedately, not willing to provoke. "You can wait for Prowl in the hall and wrestle and fight there! Then you can be Red Alert's problem!"

With surprising strength, he chucked the much larger mech out the doors, Maverick landing with a loud crash against the floor. He turned to watch the others file out the door, his gaze softening on the cowering Maelstrom who was now using the glaring Revolution as a shield. As soon as the door closed on them, Revolution and Sidevex were at Maverick's sides and hauling him up. Revolution was still glaring at the closed door, bristling at the treatment of his brother and one of his mates. Maelstrom had taken to staying close to Powerflash since Revolution wasn't an available shield to hide behind at the moment. It was silent for a moment.

"Sorry guys." Maverick mumbled, standing on his own after having shaken his brother and mate off. "My fault."

"Jus' as much mine as it is yers." The racer sighed, patting the fliers arm.

"We'll take this as a lesson learned. Don't fight, play or otherwise in Ratchet's Medical Bay." Powerflash grinned. "Revolution, stop pouting at the door, I doubt Ratchet can feel, see or care."

The graceful jet turned his pout on his leader who rolled his optics and stood straight, indicating they should just wait out here as Ratchet said. Prowl would be along soon, so they didn't have much to worry about.

As predicted, the SIC came around the corner not a few moments later, datapad in hand.

Tracks sighed, bored out of his processor as he made his way through the halls of the Ark. He was still on light duty, Ratchet not entirely happy with the way the tension cables and reaction wires were healing in his shoulder where his 'wing' had been ripped off and it was driving him slowly crazy.

He never had quite realized that there just wasn't much to do around the Ark. And Ratchet didn't want him going far either; afraid the elements of Earth would aggravate the healing circuits more and give the medic more work to do. Which meant he couldn't even go hang out with Raoul.

Thus his life was looped in a never ending rotation of monitors and boredom for the time being.

Yippee.

The multicolored mech sighed again, and did his best not to slump as he walked. It wouldn't be dignified after all. Well, he was off duty for the moment, his shift done for the day and all the free time he could want on a normal day. If there were things to do, frag it.

Of course there was the announcement base wide that they had five recruits that arrived today. He could always check out the new guys. He'd need to find them first.

And luck was on his side this time as he turned a corner to head for the rec room in a round about kind of way. There, being led by Prowl were five new mechs. He couldn't really see their faces, considering he had come up behind them, but two were fliers if the wings were anything to go by. One of them was lagging, slightly behind the others as Prowl led them on and pointed things out. The fact that he had his nose in a datapad and was mumbling to himself probably had something to do with it. He was smaller than the rest, not by much though. If Tracks were to put him next to himself, the mech probably came up to his shoulder. He was pretty good looking, cute, petite and a well balanced mix of colors. The way his face screwed up in concentration, optics shining with intent, lips slightly pursed and brow ridges high was kind of… cute.

The multicolored mech stood back silently, just watching the mech lag a little further behind again, brow ridges coming down in confusion before shooting back up in realization as he flipped to another section was amusing. Tracks' optics traced down the rest of the frame, sizing him up like he was new territory. Hey, there was nothing wrong with scoping out a new mech who might just be a good lay. The maroon chassis was certainly eye catching and the way his chassis tapered into silver mid drift and then…

'Damn, that aft!' Tracks thought, his optics drawn to the pale yellow aft that swayed slightly as the mech walked. Now he wouldn't mind getting a piece of that.

Striding forward, overactive processor moving before his logic center could catch up, Tracks closed the distance between himself and the group. A sharp clang of metal meeting metal resounded through the hall, followed almost instantly by a loud and very cute squeak of surprise. Powerflash's helm swung around, his datapad forgotten and indigo optics cycled wide and bright in startled surprise. Tracks' servo still rested against the pale yellow aft where he had slapped it and the doorwinged mech smirked, lips curling up in a sultry grin as he leaned in, ready to let off with a snazzy line about destiny and stars… when the world suddenly tilted violently and he was pinned to the floor by two snarling fliers.

Powerflash was yanked into the safety of Sidevex and Maelstrom's arms, both of them glaring energy daggers at the flattened mech.

Revolution got right in the red faceplates, denta bared and making his elegant faceplates appear dangerous and hauntingly beautiful. "Do. Not. Touch. OUR. Mate." He said quietly, promising pain should the multicolored mech try something stupid again.

"That is quite enough!" Prowl's voice drifted from behind them all. "Revolution, Maverick, let him up. This is not how you should greet your crewmates." With final growls and hisses, both jet's stood, wings hiked up to shield their smaller mates from view.

Tracks sat up flinching slightly as his injured shoulder spasmed in protest. "Perhaps you will have learned the lesson of keeping your hands to yourself." Revolution said quietly, as they turned and continued with their tour as if nothing had happened. The only difference was that Powerflash was now being herded along in the middle, none of the gestalt willing to take another chance with another mech.

They turned a corner, the stunned Tracks still sitting in the hall, bemused.

"Well, guess that was an interestin' run in wit' Powerflash an' 'is crew." The voice made him jump a little and he turned his helm to spot Jazz leaning against the wall looking amused. "Betta hope Omega doesn't go an' step on ya next battle."

"What does Omega have to do with this?" Tracks mumbled irritably as he tried to examine his shoulder. He would have to see Ratchet again. The medic was not going to be happy. Fragging fliers!

"Mech, you jus' got on the bad side of four fifths of his gestalt." Jazz cackled happily, waving as he passed, intent on seeing what else might happen if he followed the new guys. They were already proving to be great entertainment.

It was quiet in the hall again, Tracks' processor trying to catch up with the words. Wait…

"Omega Supreme's GESTALT!"


End file.
